Le Monde article translation

Jojo’s, the modern-day jack-of-all-trades, elected by playgrounds

The new favorite object of 6-10 year-olds is neither expressive nor pretty. Jojo’s, as it’s called, is a brightly-colored, crudely-molded plastic character. Adapted to the new demands of schoolchildren (its rules are not restrictive, and it can also be collected and traded), it’s part of the litany of ephemeral playground toys, but it can also claim a direct filiation with an immemorial game, originating in Antiquity: jacks. Successors – but not heirs – to Pokémons and Digimons, inspired by Japanese culture, Jojo’s can be bought in groups of five from newsagents or toy stores, in exchange for 1 euro. Since March, one million packs have been sold by TF1-Licences, the European rights holder, a result that seems to contrast with the semi-failure of the first launch six years ago. In 1996, Jojo’s couldn’t keep up with the tide of Pogs. The time was not ripe for a return to basics, but for “mangamania”, a vein that would later fuel the success of the Tamagotchi, a small but invasive virtual animal. As for the Digimon-Pokémon tandem, its runaway success came to a screeching halt in the first days of the new school year.
The wheel has turned, and today, in the drawer where primary school teachers store confiscated items, there’s a good chance of finding a complete sample of Jojo’s.

Invented by two Israelis, Michal and Ilan Laor, these grimacing or tongue-tied little monsters resemble jacks, only more tormented. There’s a game for everyone. You can throw them and count the points (five if the Jojo lands on its feet, three if it lies on its side, one if it lies on its stomach, zero if it lies on its back), or bowl the Jojo’s off your opponent. The good old games of line and toss are still played. Jojo’s are also multiple named characters, numbered (around thirty in the first series) and available in a variety of colors for collection and exchange. What’s more, the game’s designers suggest that the losing player hand over a Jojo’s to the winner. The result: whereas a single set of five knucklebones used to be enough to play with friends, now you have to plan much more broadly if you want to enjoy your playtime with peace of mind. A classic way of doing business, to which we can add the windfall effect of the changeover to the euro, which raises the psychological price of this kind of object from 5 F to the equivalent of 6.55 F.

Parents tenderize

The audience is very wide-ranging, from nursery school to CM2. Younger children manipulate the Jojo’s and invent adventures for them, while older children swap them. Parents who used to shrug their shoulders at Pikachu are moved to tears as they contemplate their little ones juggling with pieces of plastic not so far removed from the lead knuckles that used to roll around in the pockets of their shorts. Fiddling with these little objects brings to mind the sacred tricks that had to be performed with hands smeared on asphalt to enter the circle of initiates: the broom, the cat’s paw, the Eiffel Tower and, above all, the most difficult, the skull and crossbones: four jacks, one between each finger, which had to be grouped together in the middle of the palm with the fifth, red jack. That’s all it takes to get into a game on the living-room carpet, even if it means having to play by new rules. Whereas Pokémon-Digimon, with its codes inaccessible to adults, made parent-child communication almost impossible, Jojo’s seems to encourage it.
On the subject of game psychology, it’s also worth recalling the eminently gendered dimension of these pocket-money traps, which systematically catch boys in their nets, but struggle to interest girls, who have little need of pretend objects to weave their social relationships. These little toys, like birds of passage, are nonetheless making the fortunes of TF1-Licences, the Panini group and above all the Japanese giants Bandai and Nintendo, who have globalized the schoolyard economy. In May, TF1-Licences will launch a new soccer-themed series, followed by another in September, and is “thinking” about a possible television extension of Jojo’s. But the company remains very cautious. However, the company remains very cautious and does not mention precise commercial objectives, clearly aware that the plebiscites of 6-10 year-olds are massive, but short-lived. “At the start of the new school year in September, children need to find a common denominator to establish affinities and rebuild groups. Generally speaking, it’s the marbles that are best placed to take on this matchmaking function, and it’s not until the second trimester that something new starts to take hold,” observes Cécile Velasco of Lyon-based Junior City. In short, Jojo’s are not guaranteed to make it through the summer.

– Jean-Michel Normand